Fool Me Twice, Shame On Me
by SSA Haffner
Summary: When Greg and Nick get into a fight over Greg's cases, Nick says some things that make Greg leave. But when the team find out that he might never come back, everyone's thrown in every direction to try and get him back. Before they even have a chance to process the evidence, another one of them joins Greg. Will they both get back in one piece? Review to tell me how I'm doing!
1. Chapter 1

"What?!" Greg Sanders asked, disbelief covering his face.

Nick Stokes stood in front of him, arms crossed. "You are being taken off all your cases until you get some sleep. You're lucky-"

"How am I lucky?" Greg snapped, rolling up the sleeves of his lab coat. Nick was really starting to piss him off. "I'm doing well and finally getting some answers on _all_ of my cases, and all of a sudden, I'm pulled off the cases? And for what? Because you _feel_ like I'm not getting enough sleep?" Greg glared at Nick.

Nick's eyes shifted quickly between anger and sadness-almost as if he were pleading with Greg to not do this. To not get worked up. To not say something he would regret.

But Greg just scanned his desk. He shrugged off his lab coat, throwing it over the back of his chair and grabbing his keys. He glared at Nick again as he shoved them in his pocket, along with his phone. "I can see that you're just jealous that I'm almost as good as you." He walked briskly past Nick, hitting his shoulder against Nick's as he passed.

This made Nick snap. Nick's eyes widened in anger as he tackled Greg right into the hallway in front of everyone else. Nick had Greg pinned, Greg throwing punches at Nick's face.

"Get off!" Greg screamed, grabbing Nick's hair and yanking.

Nick yelled in frustration-adrenaline kept him from feeling the pain. Nick held Greg's arms by his head, looking him in the eyes. Both men could see people gathering around, but they were both too stubborn to back down. Instead, Nick began speaking without paying much attention to his words. Just let them flow.

"I'm done putting up with your comments and immature reactions, Greg! You're pathetic, and I regret ever letting myself get to know you. If I wouldn't have gotten to know you, then I wouldn't see how big of a cocky, narcissistic punk you are."

Gasps echoed lightly through the hallway, and Greg finally gained the courage to look to his left. Morgan Brody and Sara Sidle were standing in front of the large group, D.B. Russell, David Hodges, and Julie Finlay were standing behind them. He blinked back tears as some guys he didn't recognize pulled Nick off of him. But Nick wasn't done. Greg was about to start yelling back, when Nick cut him off.

"Maybe you should do all of us a favor and go home and not come back. You're no help when you're here anyway."

Those words hit Greg in the chest like a bullet. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was push his way to the front door, ignoring the calls of his coworkers. He climbed in his car and quickly drove over to a bank parking lot. Someplace quiet, someplace the team wouldn't think to look.

He had managed to get his breathing under control and was about to pull out of the lot when his phone went off. Caller ID read 'Morgan.'

He pressed 'Decline.'

Then the sobs came. Racking his body, they came hard and fast. Tears ran down his cheeks. Nick had been like an older brother to him ever since . . . well, as long as he could remember. And for him to say those things . . . it made Greg wonder yet again if he was really fit for the job. When the crying slowly came to a stop, he checked the time on the dash of his car. 12:27. His shift wouldn't end for another four and a half hours, so he probably wouldn't be able to sleep. _Maybe later_ , he always told himself. Instead of going home, he wiped his eyes and went through a drive-thru across the street from his apartment, sitting in the parking lot to eat.

Finally, at 1:40 A.M. according to his car, he felt up to going inside. He dumped his trash by the door of his apartment building's front doors and walked in. He tried to hide his face from the people in the lobby, and luckily made it to his floor without having to speak to anyone.

Once in his apartment, he collapsed on his bed. He didn't bother getting changed, brushing his teeth, or doing anything. He just layed there. Staring at the ceiling and replaying the scene over and over in his head.

He plugged his phone in, noticing the missed calls from Sara, Julie, Morgan, and even one each from Brass and Russell. He sighed as he turned his ringer off and climbed under the covers. He was determined to get enough sleep to be able to walk in the next night as if nothing Nick said had affected him. That he was above that. That he was stronger than that. He would never let anyone see him hurt ever again. Today was enough.

Those were his last thoughts before he, surprisingly, drifted into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Greg shot upright as he heard his front door slam open. He quickly listened for the voices of his friends, or anyone in general. But all he heard was the sound of scuffling and stuff being knocked off his shelves in the living room. On a burst of motivation, Greg silently snatched his phone off the charger and opened it as he crept to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door, leaving the light out. Sitting in the bathtub, his phone was dialing Morgan's.

"Greg!" She answered, sounding happy. He could hear the others' voices immediately stop.

"Morgan," he sniffed. His voice was barely above a whisper as he heard the footsteps make their way through his apartment.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Morgan asked, her tone changing from happiness to worry.

"There's someone in my apartment. I'm so scared-"

"Greg~" a male voice sang loudly. Loud enough for it to go through the phone. Multiple gasps came from the other end, and Greg assumed he was on speaker. He could also hear someone banking on the bathroom door.

"Help me guys! I'm sorry for everything I've ever done and I promise I'll be better after this just please save me-" his voice was cut off as the door was kicked open.

"There you are Greg!" The shower curtain was yanked so hard it fell-right on Greg's head.

"Sorry," the man chuckled, obviously not meaning it.

"You motherf-" Greg started, but was punched in the mouth before he could finish. He yelled in pain as blood poured from his mouth. He could hear the team yelling through the phone, begging him to respond.

"Morgan," he groaned.

The strange man picked up the phone and held it to his ear, still looking at Greg. "Did you say Morgan?" He chuckled. Greg could hear voices, but couldn't make them out. His ears were ringing too loudly.

"I need to . . . talk to Morgan . . ." Greg mumbled, though he couldn't really stop himself.

"Awe," the man cooed, obviously enjoying this. Greg lived more than 30 minutes from the lab, and if the man knew that, he was going to take his time. "Who's Morgan?" He leaned closer to Greg, holding the phone out. "Your girlfriend?"

'I wish,' thought Greg.

"Wish all you want, Greggo. You're not gonna live long enough to ask her out now. You've had plenty of chances."

Greg was horrified that he had said that out loud for maybe four seconds-the time it took for the man's other words to sink in.

He managed to open his eyes just before he saw the man holding a baseball bat exactly like an MLB player standing, ready for a pitch.

"Someone help!" Greg yelled weakly, holding his arms above his head. First, the man struck him in the side to get his hands down. Then, one hit right to the side of the head, and Greg was out like a light.

IN THE LAB

Morgan covered her mouth as she heard Greg cry out in pain. She knew the others were taking it hard, but she simply stared at the phone. She remembered Nick barking orders to get people there on the spot, police sirens wailing. People literally ran through the halls, but Morgan was busy processing. He said he _wished_ she was his girlfriend. He was in trouble. And she wasn't there for him.

She should've been there. She should've went to check up on him after that happened. She should've-

"Morgan," Sara's hand touched her shaking shoulder, snapping her out of it. "We need to go."

Morgan only nodded and ran after Sara, practically flying through doors and down halls. She was breathing heavily by the time they reached the parking lot, but she hardly noticed. She was trying to get to him as fast as she could. To _him_. To the man who needed her the most right now. She hopped into the passenger seat, not trusting herself to drive the car. Sara climbed in the driver's seat, and Julie threw herself into the back. They were all sweating but Sara peeled off the curb like a professional racecar driver. Morgan knew she couldn't go any faster, but urged the car forward.

All she wanted was for Greg to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Sara whipped her car around corner after corner, speed increasing each time. The engine was almost overheating, but as long as it didn't get to that point, she didn't care. She'd rather spend $18,000 in repairs or on a new car than lose Greg to these bastards. She shook her head. She's rather almost anything to keep this from happening. But she put those thoughts on the backburner as she stepped on the brake.

The car couldn't stop fast enough. As soon as the car was at a dead stop, Sara yanked out the keys and ran through the halls and up two flights of stairs, the elevator taking too long.

"Sara," Russell said from the doorway of Greg's room, which was taped off. Sara stopped when he held out his hand. She barely noticed her heavy breathing as she looked to Russell.

"Are you sure you want to see it?" He asked.

Sara blinked. She looked past his hand, glancing at all the evidence people were gathering.

"Positive," without looking back, she ducked under the tape and walked in. Numbers on yellow cards were practically everywhere. There was barely any way to make it through the living room without stepping on something. Fortunately, there was a path leading them right to the hallway that held Greg's bedroom.

Sara had to stop and breathe before she walked in. This felt wrong on so many levels.

* * *

Nick walked in, right behind Sara, blinking back tears. He wasn't ready. Greg's bookshelf had been flipped over, his books and pictures scattered across the floor. His bedsheets were chucked to one side, and the window beside it was smashed open. It had blood drops all over it, and Nick hoped it wasn't all from Greg.

There was a small trail of blood across the floor from the bathroom to the window. Nick's tears dried up and were replaced with sharp eyes that burned with anger. He walked to the bathroom, glancing in.

A blood-soaked shower curtain was laying in the bathtub, and Greg's phone was on the counter by the sink. More bloody drag marks were on the floor of the bathroom, and Nick macked out of the entire apartment. He stood right outside the lobby of the apartment building, watching Russell and Morgan tearily going through Greg's car. He suddenly got a strong urge to throw up. Nick subtly walked over to the trashcan by the door, just in case.

"Hey, Nick."

He jumped as Sara put a hand on his shoulder. He looked back to see her eyes brimming with tears, and that brought tears to his. Sara quickly threw herself into his chest and sobbed. Nick wrapped his arms around her shoulders and did the same. For the first time in a long while, they cried with each other, sharing their agony. They were too busy to notice anyone looking or talking about them, their soft sobs filling each others' ears.

Nick jumped when his cell phone began to ring. He shakily raised it to his ear as Sara took a small step back. "Yeah?"

"Hey," Julie said through the speaker. "I found something you really need to see."


	4. Chapter 4

Greg woke with a start, sitting up quickly. He groan at the sudden movement, feeling lightheaded. He cracked open his eyes slightly, thankful for the lights not being on. The only light was from a crack under the only door in the room, letting him see the small sink and bed he was laying on. Greg looked down. He wasn't tied to anything, but his ankles were tied together.

Thankfully, whomever had took him had left a first aid kit for him at the end of the bed, and his hands untied to use it. He also noticed a small makeup mirror lying beside it. He picked it up, the light providing just enough light for him to see the dried blood caked on the left side of his head. He sighed, his head pounding. As he opened the first aid kit, but before he could even start finding out what was inside, a flashing light caught his eye.

 _A camera!_ Greg thought, a little excitement bubbling inside his stomach. Maybe his friends could see him? But quickly he squashed that hope, knowing that it was likely this was how the man who took him was watching him.

Greg turned back to the box. He lifted out a small roll of gauze, a half-used tube of burn ointment, and a small bottle of water. Greg would've normally chuckled at the tampons lying at the bottom of the box, but not now. He remembered Julie and him joking about how anyone could use tampons to stop blood, one of them being stab wounds or bullet holes. He silently prayed that he wouldn't have to use them for any reason-along with any of the other supplies.

He managed to hop his way over to the sink and putting his head down in, not hurting as much as he had expected. Greg pulled off his shirt to wash off the dried blood, careful not to open the wound back up again. Once he was done, he hopped back to the bed, laying his shirt out to dry. Greg sighed again, looking at the camera. He was already tired from that, which worried him that he wouldn't be able to fight off his attacker the next time he came in the room.

"Knock knock~" someone sing-songed outside his room. Then, the door opened, revealing a tall man in a red t-shirt and washed out jeans. On his feet were just plain black tennis shoes. Greg noticed that he was really quite handsome and gulped at the fact that he was just another generic Las Vegas inhabitant. There was no way this was the same guy who had kidnapped him.

"Hey there, buddy," the man said, moving the kit a little before sitting down next to Greg. "I brought you something." The man brought out a small grocery bag, handing it to Greg. "I'm truly sorry about this," he whispered to Greg, and Greg saw that the camera couldn't see the man's face. Almost like he was . . . hiding.

Greg was surprised when the man turned to look at the camera briefly before turning to the sink, which was covered in blood. Greg wasn't exactly careful when he washed out his hair.

"Oh my," the man said. He quickly rushed over to the sink, trying to use the water to get everything down the drain quickly. "Is this all yours?" He turned to look at Greg.

Greg only lowered his head, afraid of what the man's reaction was going to be. His heart was racing in his chest.

"I'm so sorry," the man said. Greg looked between the camera and the strange man, hoping there wasn't an audio feed that the man could listen to. The man seemed to understand Greg instantly. "He can't hear us, don't worry."

There was a slight, awkward pause.

"My name's Alex." Greg looked up at him, nodding slightly in understanding. Why was the man telling him this? Was it a trick? A torture tactic? A way to get Greg's guard down before . . . whatever?

"What's yours?" Alex asked.

Greg gulped. "Greg," he whispered.

"Greg." Alex seemed to be trying out the name in his mouth, like he'd never heard the name before. Greg only stared down at his hands, hoping his friends were coming.

"Did he bring you here?" Alex asked, sitting on his knees on the ground in front of Greg. Greg simply pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to be as little as possible. He took a deep breath before nodding slightly.

Alex sighed, almost as if he were sad. This caught Greg off guard.

"He brought me here too, you know."

Greg's head snapped up, sending a sharp pain through his skull. He winced. "Really?" He whispered.

Alex nodded. "About five years ago, I lived in Los Angeles with my little sister. Our parents were killed in a car accident. I was seventeen, my sister was only fifteen. I immediately got myself a job and was paying the rent of the apartment we lived in and managed to keep myself and her from going into foster care. Then, when I turned eighteen, my sister started driving. One night, she was out having fun with her friends when a car came out of nowhere and-" Alex stopped as his voice cracked. Greg stared intently, almost knowing what came next. "And it hit her and one of her other friends. She was the only one who didn't make it." He wiped a tear away with his finger. "I had used all of my money for her funeral, and ended up getting kicked out of my apartment. One of my friends had offered for me to crash at his place until I could find a place of my own again and get back on my feet." Alex chuckled humorlessly. "Turns out that he just wanted to keep me forever."

Greg sat, silent. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act.

Alex smiled lightly at Greg. "I know you don't like it here, and that you think someone will come and find you. I did, too. Don't let it get to your head." Alex said, then bit his cheek. "At least, you won't be alone while you're here, right?"

Greg nodded. "Thanks."

Alex nodded back. "You seem nice. I wonder why he brought you here. All the others he's brought in he just . . . got rid of in a matter of days." Alex got up and walked to the door. "I hope he keeps you. Maybe he'll let me have a friend."

Greg stared as Alex shut the door behind him, and he heard it lock. He bent over, praying to God that his friends would save him before anything bad happened.


	5. Chapter 5

"What do we have?" D.B. Russell asked, walking into the light room of the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

"Our kidnapper left a fingerprint on Greg's phone, but he's not in any of our databases," Nick quickly answered.

"And we had an unknown male's blood on the windowpane, which means he's been injured." Sara added.

"Anything about where the kidnapper took Greg?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Hey!" Morgan said loudly, practically running into the light room. Nick and Sara jumped.

"You have something?" Russell tried to hide the hope in his voice, but not very hard.

"I found blood drops going down the fire escape, and bloody drag marks leading from the bottom of the fire escape. They just stop abruptly, like Greg was tossed into a car or something." Morgan tried to keep her tone happy. They were another step closer to finding him, but in order for them to take that step, Greg had to be hurt.

"I'll go down and see if there were any video cameras that would give us any clue as to where Greg's been taken." Nick immediately started to leave the room, but Russell stopped him.

"Take Morgan with you," he said. "No one is going anywhere without another person with them again. I don't care if it's weird." He looked between Sara and Morgan. "You two can spend the night at one another's houses, right?"

The two women nodded.

"And Nick, you're gonna stay over at my place from now until we find Greg, alright?"

Nick blinked in surprise. "Sure," he shrugged.

Russell sighed. "Now go. Take Morgan and call me with anything you find."

"We will," said Morgan, running down the hall after Nick.

* * *

"Okay, so." Nick said, standing right at the end of the bloody drag marks. He looked around, eyes squinted in concentration. Morgan was leaned against Nick's car, looking around as well. She was still angry with Nick for what he had said.

"If I were the kidnapper," he started, leaning down into the position of someone dragging another person across the ground. "And I was dragging... _someone_ ," he emphasized the last word, almost as if he were still coming to terms with the fact that his little brother had been taken. "I would end up stopping here." Nick stopped, looking around for some glint off a screen somewhere.

"Right there!" Morgan said loudly, appearing right beside Nick. Nick jumped. She tried not to laugh as she pointed to a video camera off in the distance. It wasn't too far, but they weren't sure if they would be able to get anything off of it.

"There's two!" Nick exclaimed, pointing to one right to their left, which was right on the other side of the parking lot. Morgan immediately pulled out her phone, dialing Russell.

"There's a video camera on the back of the casino to the east of here," Morgan said into the phone. "Yeah, that one. Can you pull the feed?" Nick watched her smile as she spoke. "Alright. We'll be there to help go through it soon. Thanks." She hung up the phone, and the smile slipped off her face. "They need us back at the lab."

"I'll drive," Nick offered, quickly hopping into the driver's seat and stuck the key in the ignition. Morgan wordlessly climbed in the passenger's seat, and they were on their way.

About fifteen minutes into the drive back, Nick sighed. ""Okay. Out with it. Yell at me, tell me how horrible it was-what I said to Greg. Just say _something_."

Morgan felt like she couldn't hold her tongue any longer, and Nick had opened the door for her. She decided to step through.

"How could you?" Morgan said, tears in her eyes surprising her. Her voice sounded so small, so _broken_. She sniffed. "You knew he looked up to you," she sounded like she was pleading, and she didn't even know what for. "Why would you say those things?" She brought herself to look up at Nick, and saw some tears slip down his cheeks.

"Yelling at me would've made this easier." He stated, choking on a sob for the second time that night.

Morgan brought a hand up to her cheeks to wipe away the tears falling down. "Well, I don't think yelling at each other will help Greg at all," she wrapped her arms around herself, wrenching her eyes shut. If she could plunge herself into pure darkness, maybe she could imagine herself somewhere else. She focused so hard on all the fun times her and Greg had, hoping that she could somehow convincer herself that that Greg was never going to leave her. That he would always come back. That he would be okay.

"You know," Nick chuckled softly through his tears. "Greg and I were going to go out tomorrow after work." He glanced at Morgan, who was staring at him tiredly, grateful for any distraction from her own thoughts. "The plan was to get him drunk enough and then text you to come out and meet him."

Morgan nodded just barely enough for Nick to see, then continued to stare out the windshield. Nick glanced often over at her expressionless face, and focused on driving. He deserved the silent treatment. He deserved worse, and was actually glad she hadn't begun yelling at him right at the start. She was like his younger sister, and if he had hurt her too, he probably wouldn't be able to keep it together enough to focus on Greg's case.

Nick was just about to park the car in a spot by the doors of the Crime Lab, when he saw Sara and Russell running out the door, Julie following close behind.


	6. Chapter 6

Greg woke to the sound of his door opening again. He wiped his eyes to clear his vision, and saw a new person enter the room. He eyed the man, taking in his characteristics, just in case it came down to Greg being able to identify the man or not.

The man wasn't very tall, maybe 5'6" at the most, with jet black hair, bright white teeth, and striking grey eyes. Greg suppressed the urge to shiver as the man's and his eyes met. The man was wearing a masquerade mask of some kind, so Greg couldn't find any scars, birthmarks, etc. Greg began to sweat when the man didn't say anything, only walking over to the video camera in the far corner of the room. Blocking Greg's view of what he was doing, the man fiddled with the camera a little, pulling something from his pocket and then putting something else in.

"Say hi to your friends, Greg." The man's voice was hard and cold, sending another batch of shivers up Greg's spine. He was unable to suppress them this time. The man was smirking, making Greg's heartbeat race.

Adjusting the camera to focus in on Greg's face, the bruise covering the upper left side of his forehead probably being what whomever was watching this was looking at. Greg's headache was gone, though, so he was silently thanking God for answering his prayers for some kind of help.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" The man said, and his laugh made Greg's blood run cold. Greg was cowering in fear, though he knew that was exactly what the man wanted. But instead of going for him, he walked to the door. Greg leaned so he could see out the door, but all he could see was Adam holding someone beside him. A gleam of light bounced off a head of shiny, slightly curled blonde hair. Greg almost wanted to cry.

"Morgan!" Greg yelled jumping off the bed. He tried to run to her, but then remembered the tape around his ankles. He sat on the edge of the bed, using his hands to try and take it off. He glared daggers at the men, who were now carrying said blonde to the middle of the room. Adam silently brought in a red chair, placing it in the middle of the room as well. Then, the stranger brought out a roll of duct tape out of his pocket while Adam adjusted the camera once more, so he could see both Greg and Morgan.

"You son of a bitch!" Greg yelled. "Let her go!" His previous shyness was washed away by anger at the two, seeing a small bruise on the side of Morgan's temple. He was about to keep yelling profanities at the two, but was cut off by a punch to the jaw. The room was small enough that if Greg was on the edge of the bed, and Morgan in the chair, he could almost reach her knee. He noticed this as he was doubled over on the bed, his head pounding. Greg cradled his head in his hands as he tried not to cry. A few tears dripped down his cheek, but he quickly wiped them away before his attackers could experience any joy from it.

"One more snide comment from you, and she'll be the one hurting, you hear me, pretty boy?" The stranger grabbed Greg's hair by the roots, and pulled his head so far back you would've thought his neck was broken. Greg only stared at him in contempt, hoping that his team was one step closer to finding them.

Letting go, the man walked over to Morgan, looking at the camera. "This is a live feed," he announced, almost like he were proposing a toast at a wedding-full of excitement and happiness. It made Greg sick. "So your friends at the Crime Lab are watching this as we speak." He turned to Greg. "You might wanna say your goodbyes into the camera now, before I cut out your tongue."

* * *

A HALF HOUR EARLIER

"You guys need to come with us," Sara said, running up to Nick's window. "An anonymous caller just tipped us off on someone matching Greg's description being taken out of a van and taken into a house down on Stoneridge Boulevard."

"Hop in," was all Nick said. Once Sara closed the door, Morgan put down her visor, the flashing lights turning on with a flick of Nick's wrist. Soon, they were peeling down the street faster than the car was supposed to. If this was Greg, they had to assume the worst and so the sooner they got there, the better.

It was only five minutes away for them, but everyone else was about five minutes behind the team. Julie and Russell turned onto the street right behind Nick, their sirens blaring as well. Nick had a moment of confusion, since he didn't know which house they were supposed to be checking, but bright lights from a cop car up ahead had cleared that up for him.

Once Nick pulled over, much like Sara had at Greg's place, they practically ran to the door. They forgot about protocol, their sole focus being to find Greg. Nick unholstered hit gun, the ladies following suit. As Julie and Russell ran to keep up with the three, Nick yelled.

"Las Vegas PD!" He yelled, looking to Russell. He nodded when there was no answer, and Nick kicked in the door with such force it came off its hinges. But the people didn't care. If Greg was being held here, they sure as hell would find him.

As they spread out among the one story house, a series of "Clear!"s shot through the hallways. The team took a moment to calm their speeding hearts. They were all about to head back outside when they heard someone call out in pain. Their heart plummeted. Immediately, they all ran to the far wall, which was where it sounded like the call had come from.

"Guys!" Morgan called, noticing a door handle sticking out from the wall. The rest of the team stood behind her, guns at the ready. They all knew that if the person inside was Greg's kidnapper and he had a weapon, they were going to just shoot him and claim it was self defense. It was a kind of telepathic mutual agreement.

But when Morgan opened the door, their hearts sunk even more.

The person lying on the ground wasn't Greg.

Sara was the first to snap out of their stupor. She took a step in, scanning the room with her eyes and gun. Then, she nodded to the others, going to check for a pulse. She _tsked_ when she didn't find one.

"Get the coroner," she stated. Russell quickly walked out of the room, pulling out his cell and dialing.

About fifteen minutes later, the body had been removed and was on its way to the morgue. The team had managed to calm themselves slightly, and began to process the scene. There was so much evidence to be bagged, Nick and Julie had to go back to the lab to get more. Russell had decided to go back to the lab with the body, hoping that the sooner they had an I.D., the sooner they could find who did this. This left Morgan and Sara at the scene by themselves, waiting. There was no sense in wasting the gas driving two cars to the lab and back again, just for baggies, and Nick had insisted that the two of them could handle it.

"Do you think he's okay?" Morgan whispered, looking out the open window in the room.

Sara just walked over and put a hand on Morgan's shoulder, also looking out. "It's Greg. He's too stubborn to die." She chuckled softly. "Besides, it's only been what? Maybe an hour and a half? He'll be fine. And if the same guy who did this," she gestured around the room, "has Greg, he'll keep him for at least four days before . . _disposing_ of him." Sara bit her cheek.

Morgan looked at her tearily. "I just wanna see him."

"And you will," a deep voice said behind her, making her turn around sharply.

"Run, Sara!" Morgan yelled as the man grabbed her arms. Sara made a dash towards the door, yelling for help, but then a second man climbed through the window, carrying two body bags and two rags. He quickly ran and grabbed Sara before she reached the door, holding one of the rags over her mouth. She immediately knew it was chloroform. Struggling against her restraints, she held her breath. If she had even one whiff of that stuff, she'd be out like a light. Eventually, the man got annoyed at what was taking so long and punched her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Now she gasped for air, and the attacker finally filled it with the chloroform, sending Sara to the ground.

Meanwhile, Morgan was putting up one hell of a fight for just a small girl. She had managed to send a few good punched at the guy, obviously causing some discomfort. But once the second man started coming her way, she knew she was screwed if she didn't think of something. She quickly ducked under the man, grabbing a baseball bat that had yet to be bagged. She turned around, knowing that if she could hold them off just a little bit longer, Nick and Julie would show up and save them. She began pulling out her cellphone and speeddialed Nick.

"Morgan? Everything alright?" Nick answered.

That was when both men attacked at the same time, one grabbing the bat from her hands and the other tackling her to the ground. She screamed into the phone. "Nick! It's them! Help!"

Then, her cries were muffled as one of the men practically stuffed the rag down her throat. She tried swinging punches at the man holding her down, but it was no use. She could already feel herself getting lightheaded.

The last thing she heard was Nick calling her name and begging her to respond.


	7. Chapter 7

Groaning, Morgan began to wake up. She tried to open her eyes, but her head was pounding so hard she had to squeeze her eyes shut just to try and dull the pain. She went to bring a hand to her forehead to try and rub away the pain, but then a sharp pain shot through her wrist. This made her open her eyes with a gasp.

"Fuck," she whispered, looking down at her wrist. It was handcuffed to the armrest of a chair, and when she pulled on it, she had broken the delicate skin on the back of her wrist. She hissed in pain when she tried to move it again, then laid her head back with another groan.

"Hey." A faint voice in front of her caught her attention. She quickly looked at him, her jaw dropping. "Greg!" She called in surprise and happiness, smiling at him. Then, once she saw his injuries, her smile slipped off her face and was replaced with a face of worry. "Greg?" She asked again, quieter this time. Greg had winced when she called his name the first time, and based on his head injury, it looked like he might've had a mild concussion, she assessed. Therefore, she'd have to speak softly if she didn't want to hurt him.

"Are you okay?" They both asked at the same time, chuckling slightly.

"I'm alright," Greg said quietly. "It looks worse than it is. You?"

Morgan bit her lip, her headache slowly fading away. Thankfully, she didn't have a concussion. She looked to her wrist. "That's my only problem right now."

Greg groaned, laying back on the bed that he was tied to. Morgan could see ligature marks on his hands and his bare ankles, but only his right wrist was handcuffed to the metal bedframe. "They're mentally torturing me," he said, immediately regretting saying it out loud.

"How?" Morgan asked, her cheeks burning with an assumption.

Greg turned to look at her, then wordlessly shooted as far towards Morgan as he could, his wrist pulling on the handcuff. He reached out his left hand as far as he could. Morgan stretched out her fingers, and there was barely two inches of space between them. Greg recoiled, pulling back to rub his wrist. "See what I mean?" He looked down, refusing to make eye contact. "You're in pain, and I have the supplies to help you get better, but they decide to torture me by making sure I'm close enough to see you, but not close enough to help you."

Morgan sighed, lowering her head. It was hurting her, too. And not just her wrist.

She was about to say something, when the noise of the four different locks on the door began to turn. Greg and her stared at them silently, both of their heartbeats echoing in their ears. They braced themselves for something to come barging through, but were surprised when the door opened just enough for someone to slip through.

"Greg!" The man said, practically running over to his side. Morgan watch with suspicion as Greg didn't shy away from him.

"Adam, this is Morgan." Greg whispered to him. Adam turned to her.

"It's nice to meet you Morgan," Adam said, smiling. Then his look turned sour, looking down. "Just not under these circumstances."

Morgan nodded in understanding. She wasn't going to be polite to some stranger who kidnapped them. Maybe Greg had stockholm syndrome already. She sighed inwardly. If so, how were they going to be rescued?

"I came in here to warn you guys." Adam said quietly, glancing at the door. "Sam's going to be in here any minute now. He went out with his buddies about an hour ago, and my guess is that he's either going to be drunk and angry, or maybe he'll be drunk and calm. There's the slightly possibility he's not drunk, but with him, that's hardly ever the case."

Morgan just stared at him in wonder. Why in the world was this guy giving up valuable information like this guy's name? Was he another captive? Was he just messing with their brains?

"I'd better go. I'm not supposed to be talking to you guys. I managed to create a five minute loop in the video camera over there, just so I could warn you. Good luck. Maybe I'll be able to talk him down from his anger when he gets here."

And with that, he was out the door.

"Great," Greg sighed sarcastically, laying his head back on the bed again. He stared at the ceiling, praying silently that Sam wouldn't hurt him and Morgan. Especially Morgan.

She opened her mouth to speak to Greg, to try and make him feel better, but she couldn't find the words. She just stared at him, their situation finally sinking in. They had been kidnapped, and the fact that majority of people kidnapped don't make it out alive had come into her mind. Her heart raced in her chest, her breathing becoming faster every second. Before she could stop it, she was full-on hyperventilating. Her body shook, her breathing sporadic, and her eyes looking around wildly, not really seeing anything.

It was only when she felt a warm hand on her knee that she stopped shaking. Her eyes finally met Greg's.

"Take a deep breath, Morgan." Greg said calmly, though his eyes looked concerned. "Focus on your breathing."

As she did, she could find herself beginning to wind down from her small anxiety attack. She smiled lightly at Greg. "Thanks," she cursed herself for doing that in front of someone.

"No problem," he said, scooting back onto the bed. He had been lying halfway off the bed in order to reach her knee.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

Greg looked at her, concerned again. "For what? You've done nothing wrong."

Morgan couldn't bring herself to look Greg in the eyes. "I'm the reason we're here right now." She paused. Knowing that that had come off different than what she had meant, she continued. "I mean, if I had gotten there faster...if I wouldn't have waited for a police escort...if I were there, at your apartment, talking to you about…" she cursed herself for bringing up the incident between Greg and Nick. "I could've prevented this!" She finally let her tears fall, though she hated every single tear that landed on her faded jeans. Morgan had promised to stay strong, for Greg, and now she found herself crying in front of him.

Greg almost cried, too. He wanted to hug her so badly. To rest his chin on her head as he comforted her. "Morgan," he whispered. Then, he composed himself. "Morgan," he finally caught her attention. "It's not your fault, alright? I could've put up more of a fight than what I did, and I could've easily prevented it, too. Don't blame yourself. If I wouldn't have provoked Nick into saying what he did, I wouldn't have gone home. If I wouldn't have gone home, I wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. It's my fault no matter how you look at it."

"But I wanted to comfort you!" Morgan burst. "I wanted to go over to your apartment and tell you that it was all going to be alright and that Nick was sorry and that I was sorry you got in an argument and…" she gulped. "I asked Sara if she thought I should've gone over, and she said it would've been better for you to just have some time to yourself. So, I respected that. I waited a whole hour to finish my last case before I started packing up my stuff so I could sneak out and come see you. I was just in the break room with Sara, telling her where I was heading, when you called. Everyone's eyes were on me when I picked up the phone, and so on and so forth." Tears streaked her cheeks as she spoke. "If I would've left even ten minutes sooner, I could've saved you, Greg!"

Greg sat there, dumbfounded. She was going to sneak out, risk her job, just to come and see if he was alright?

"I'm so sorry," she cried again, but her crying stopped suddenly when they heard the locks unlocking again.

Greg glanced between her and the door this time, while her gaze stayed pointed to the ground. The door was quickly thrust open, and a figure stepped into the room. It wasn't Adam, so they had to assume it was Sam. Thankfully, the figure seemed drunk, but if he was angry, that wasn't something to be thankful for.

"Adam!" The man yelled. Adam hurried through the door quickly after the man.

"Yes, Sam?" He timidly asked.

"Man the camera," Sam knelt down in front of Morgan, putting a finger under her chin. When she refused to look at him, he motioned for Adam to bring the camera closer. Then, once Sam deemed Adam close enough, he brought his hand back, and smacked Morgan across the cheek. _**Hard.**_

"Leave her alone!" Greg yelled as Morgan's neck turned sharply. She gasped in pain, adrenaline keeping her from feeling the pain yet. A red handprint began to show across her cheek, and Sam motioned again for Adam to bring the camera closer.

"I am only going to say this once," Sam said, standing up from Morgan. He turned so he could look at them both. "I am going to tell you what I am going to do to the other one, and then, you'll have to watch. For instance," he smirked. "Greg, I am going to burn her." Morgan's head whipped around so fast you could've sworn it was circling around on her shoulders. She refused to look at the camera as Sam left the room. She looked at Greg, tears welling in her eyes.

Greg was in shock. How could he? How could he hurt her? She was so innocent!

The second Sam came back into the room, Greg spoke up.

"No! Burn me instead! Hurt me! Leave her alone!" He pulled against his restraint, trying to swing at Sam to get his attention.

Sam held the branding iron in his hand, the tip a bright orange. The tip was a circle, obviously not meant for the usual branding purposes. Sam smirked at Greg. "No."

Then, Sam quickly grabbed Morgan by the hair and pushed the iron into the middle of her chest, her screams filling the room and echoing down the halls. Greg cried openly as the smell of burnt flesh enveloped the room. He gagged, trying not to puke as Sam pulled the iron away, tossing it to the side of the room. Letting go of Morgan's hair, Sam reached into his tool belt around his hips, bringing out a knife. Normally, Greg would've found this funny. Kitchen utensils in a tool belt. But right now, his heart was racing so fast he felt like he was about to start hyperventilating like Morgan had.

"Morgan!" Greg said, calling out to her. Her head was hung low, and her breathing was slow and heavy. Her face looked like it was hard just for her to breathe.

When she didn't respond, Sam laughed. "Looks like this next punishment's for you, Greggo."


	8. Chapter 8

"Nicky! Nick!" Julie called as she ran down the hallways of the lab, looking around. She ran past each room, only glancing into each one briefly. She skid to a halt just past the break room after she glanced at his hunched form in one of the chairs. Breathing heavily, she jogged up to Nick, holding out a stack of papers. When he didn't look up at her right away, she dropped her arm.

"Nicky?" She asked quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the tightness of his shoulder muscles underneath his blue shirt. "Are you okay?"

Nick didn't look up right away, and Julie looked around for a chair to sit in. She pulled one up next to him and sat down, taking the empty coffee mug out of his hands and set it on the counter next to her. She set the papers down beside the mug as well, turning her entire attention to Nick. She took on of his hands in hers, offering as much professional comfort as her job restrictions would allow.

"What are they doing to them right now, Julie?" Nick whispered, lifting his face, but not his gaze. Julie could see the tears brimming in his eyes. "Why did I convince them to stay? Why didn't I have them come with?" Nick dropped his head again, and his shoulders began to shake. "Morgan would still be safe and sound, not with those...with those…" Nick racked his head for a word, but it proved to be too much work. He shook his head, sniffed, and lifted a shaking hand to wipe his eyes.

"Don't do this to yourself," Julie said just above a whisper as she saw Hodges walk in the room. He stopped when he saw the two coworkers, and motioned to a file of papers in his hand. He silently placed them on the table next to the stack of papers she had had before, and briskly walked out and back to his lab down the hall. Then, Nick snapped his head up and looked at her silently.

"But it's true." Was all Nick said.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But we'll never know that. All we can do now is work to get her and Greg back before anything happens to them." Julie reached out to grab the file folder and the stack of papers. "Now, I have a lot of evidence results I have to read through. Would you like to come and help me or would you like to take another couple minutes?"

Nick sighed. "Give me five minutes to hit the bathroom to wash off my face, alright? I'll meet you in the light room."

Julie nodded, standing up and pushing the chair back to where she got it. She held her hand on Nick's shoulder for a second before walking to the light room.

"Hey, Julie." Sara said, almost bumping into the woman on her way out. "I was just about to come get you and Nick."

"Nick'll be here in a few. He's taking a couple minutes." Julie walked over to the table, seeing a couple different stacks of papers already sorted onto the table. "What's all this?"

Sara scowled at the papers. "A four-year-old case I've been trying to figure out. Nothing to do with Greg, though. Always keep it with me." Sara sloppily compiled the stacks into one and stuffed them into her bag that was sitting on the floor. "What about you?" She asked, glancing at the rather large stack of papers in Julie's hands.

"All the evidence from Greg's apartment and the house." Julie said, laying down the stack. "Wanna help?"

Sara nodded, walking back around the backside of the table. "Just tell me whatcha want from me," she winked, then laughed.

Julie smiled. "Thanks." She laid the paper stack on the table. "Let's just read through the ones from Greg's apartment first, see if there's anything suspicious."

"Sure thing," Sara began to read through the files as Nick walked through the door. He carried three coffees in his arms.

"I saw Sara and you walk in here together," he explained, handing one cup to Sara that had her name scrawled on it lightly in pencil, and one to Julie that had hers. "What's first?" He asked, taking a long sip of the piping hot coffee. If he had to sacrifice a couple taste buds to get Greg and Morgan back safe, then so be it.

With the three of them reading through every word on every paper, careful not to miss something that might help them, they finished their thorough search in about an hour and a half. Nick glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the morning. Morgan and Greg had both been gone for almost three hours, and all they had were a couple unknown samples of blood and hair, weapons with the victim's blood on it, and a rag with Morgan's DNA on it.

"Let's call Grissom," Sara said, pulling out her phone. "I know he's off for a couple weeks right now, but I think he'll make an exception. We need all hands on deck right now."

"Alright. I'll go get D.B., and do you want Hodges' opinion as well or just leave him to play in his lab?" Nick smirked lightly.

"Leave him be," Julie said, laughing. "Just get Russell and bring back some more coffee, please." Julie tossed her empty cup into the trash can in the corner.

"Be right back." Nick nodded curtly before leaving.

* * *

"Thanks you two, I'm sure your friends will love their present!" Sam sauntered out of the room, picking up the discarded weapons lying on the floor on his way out. He slammed the door shut, leaving the two CSIs alone.

Greg laid his head back on the pillow, crying silently. What that man had done to him already...he hadn't even been gone for maybe a full day and he knew that what Sam had done would scar him forever. He looked down at the torn skin on his stomach, and the bruises forming over his ribs. His shirt had been cut off, Sam not to careful about cutting Greg in the process, creating a cut from his hips to his chest, blood slowly dripping down both his sides and onto the bed. He blinked back the tears trying to assess the rest. Thankfully, his pants were still on and intact; Sam hadn't gone that far.

 _Yet_ , Greg thought. He tried to take a deep breath, but that only ended up with a sharp pain through his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He cried out, not in fear, or worry, or anything else other than pure agony. He knew Sam probably heard him, but figured he couldn't possibly be in any more pain than this. Greg couldn't breathe, and he could only hope for the sweet distraction sleep would give him. He clamped his eyes closed, but then he heard voices. Was Sam back with Adam? Or was it just Sam to continue hurting him? Maybe it was Adam, here to help with his wounds.

Greg opened his eyes to the sound of his name.

"Greg?" Morgan sat gingerly on the side of the bed, running her left hand through his hair, trying to soothe him. She looked like she was on the verge of tears herself, but held them back, for Greg's sake. "Greg, can you hear me?"

Her voice was slightly distorted, and incredibly loud, making him wince with every word. "Concussion," Greg whispered, hoping she'd talk a lot quieter.

"Oh, sorry," she whispered. "Stay awake. Talk to me, if you can. No sleeping, alright?"

Greg nodded. This was a tactic they had all learned to use on victims who had sustained concussions, and it was again being put to use. But now he understood how hard it was just to keep his eyes open. They felt like concrete, and he had to try and sit up if he were to have any chance of keeping himself awake.

"Here," Morgan said, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar. She held the water to Greg's lips, letting him decide when he was done. He took the bottle from her, nodding his thanks.

"Where'd you get that?" He whispered, his words echoing in his own skull. He managed to lift himself onto his elbows before the pain became too much and fell back onto the bed again.

"Adam said he had brought you a bag full of things to try and help you stay alive earlier. He apologized for not packing anything for me, but I told him that he couldn't have known I was going to be here, too." She whispered. She glanced around the bed. "He packed a couple granola bars, two more water bottles, some Advil, and some Neosporin for cuts and burns."

Greg smiled on the inside, but his face just wouldn't do the same. He started to doze off, and his limbs suddenly felt like lead. His eyes drooped, but Morgan wasn't having that. She lightly grabbed his shoulders and told him something he couldn't hear.

"Greg!" She practically yelled, beginning to shake him lightly. She knew it would hurt like hell, but she would rather he be alive and in enough pain to keep him that way than dead. The thought brought tears to her eyes, but she quickly shoved the idea aside. Not on her watch.

"C'mon Greg! Stay awake!" She wrapped her arms under his and put him in a sitting position, a small moan of protest passing from his lips. Morgan winced, knowing she was causing him a great deal of pain.

"Let me sleep," Greg mumbled, rolling his head to the side. Morgan put a hand on both sides of his head, holding it straight up.

"No, Greg." She said, trying to sound as stern as she could. "Do not sleep. You cannot sleep. Look at me, Greg." When he ignored her, she started to freak out. "Greg!" She yelled, making him jolt awake again, his eyes frantically scanning the room. When they landed on her face, though, they began to droop again. "Gregory!"

Greg had had enough and was about to tell her the shut the hell up and that he would be on time for school and that he would be downstairs in ten minutes as usual, but then his thoughts came back to him. This wasn't his mom. He wasn't seventeen anymore. This was Morgan, and he was most likely going to die if he didn't stay awake.

He reached across the bed and grabbed the water bottle, his eyes still drooping. He quickly dumped the water on his forehead, immediately making his eyes stop trying to close. Greg almost felt fine, and was about to make another stupid comment, when some of the water dripped into his cut down his chest. He hissed in pain, his face contorting.

"Fuck," he hissed, grabbing four of the Advil from the bag, downing them with the water in seconds. "That hurts more than it probably should." He looked to Morgan, who was just sitting there, watching. She had to make sure he didn't fall asleep again. If he did, she still wasn't sure he'd wake up.

When the pain finally receded, he took a couple deep breaths. Thankfully, the Advil was starting to kick in a little, and the pain was bearable enough to breathe regularly. He smiled at Morgan, who was still sitting, watching.

"You act like you're a nurse watching over a dying patient," he cringed inwardly at that sucky analogy, but she smiled all the same.

"You're acting like you're okay," she whispered, and with a burst of courage, took his hand in hers. She tried to blink away the tears, but every time she blinked, another one fell down her cheeks.

"Hey," Greg said, squeezing her hand. "You'll be fine. I promise. I won't let him do anything to you."

Greg had hoped that this would make her smile, make a comment, or at least stop crying, but if anything, it made her cry harder.

"That's the thing," she cried, sniffing. "You should just let him do this to me," she gestured to his chest. "I deserve it more. You're a nice, generous, caring person who would never intentionally hurt someone. Whereas I-"

"Stop," Greg whispered, hushing her immediately. "Stop saying that. Even if I'm being sexist and say it's because you're a woman, it's true. You shouldn't be put through the same as me. I don't care if you say that you can take it and that you should be able to take it just like me, but you're wrong. You weren't build for that. You aren't physically capable to take the pain like a man could. I'm not saying you're weak, just not as strong as every other male out there. So don't try and act like you're going to keep me from taking the punishment, alright?" Greg sighed. "I don't want you to get hurt, and if that means Sam's going to take his anger out on me instead, then fine. I'll take it. Until I breathe my last breath, I will not let him lay a finger on you if I can convince him to do it to me instead. Don't try to stop me, because you can't."

Morgan just sat back and stared at the bed, knowing that every word he said was true. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the words.

"C'mere," Greg said, opening his arms. His ultimate goal was a hug, but Morgan must have taken it quite differently, sitting next to him and laying her head on his shoulder lightly at first, trying not to hurt him. But after maybe ten minutes of sitting, her whole weight was on his side, Morgan being dead asleep. The pain was almost unbearable, so Greg slowly moved so they were both laying down, him lying closer to the edge of the bed, just in case Sam came in before they woke up. Maybe he'd grab him first.

Greg laid there for a moment, assessing his head once again. The pain was almost gone, but he had to make sure it wasn't the Advil. He shook his head around, no pain. He rolled his eyes, no pain. He nodded, no pain. He decided he didn't really have a concussion, and laid back down beside Morgan. Greg closed his eyes, and the last thing he felt was Morgan's fingers intertwining with his.


	9. Chapter 9

"I have a package for-" the receptionist leaned down to read the label on the brown box she carried. She stood in the break room, where al of night shift was simultaneously taking a ten minute break. "It says Nick Stokes AND Sara Sidle…?"

Both CSIs stood abruptly, Nick accidentally spilling some hot coffee onto his hand. He winced and wiped it off immediately, but his attention remained on the box that Sara took from the receptionist.

"Thanks," Sara said, and the receptionist took this as her queue to leave. Spinning on her heels and walking out, the team was left in silence.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking this is?" Sara said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, but damn do I hope I'm wrong." Nick said as Sara placed the package on the table.

"Here," Russell handed each of them a pair of rubber gloves from the cabinet. "Just in case it does become evidence."

Sara and Nick nodded their thanks, both knowing the likelihood of something addressed to both of them while they were searching for two of their team members having nothing to do with it.

Nick pulled a pocketknife from his pocket after putting on his gloves, cutting the tape holding the box closed. He was unknowingly holding his breath, hoping for the love of God that this wasn't a bomb rigged to go off when someone opened it. But if it was, he told himself, at least he would die next to the people he loved like family.

Sara noticed his hesitation to opening the lid, and took it upon herself. She flipped open the lid with a single motion, immediately taking in the contents.

"Son of a bitch." Sara seethed as she lifted out a DVD disc in a clear plastic case. On it, in big, black letters, read _Hope you're having as much fun as I am! Here's a little sneak peak_.

She held it up for everyone else to see, and looked to Archie who nodded. "I'll go see what I can get off of this disc. Maybe there'll be a print," he said, taking it from Sara, knowing all too well what was on it.

Nick leaned over to look in the box, but immediately regretted it. "I'll be right back," Nick said, holding the back of his hand to his forehead and walking out of the room without another word.

With that, both men left the lab, each going in a different direction.

Sara looked down at the box, inside lying a vest with a name on it. Sara's breath hitched as she saw the name on it, along with the blood on the inside.

"What's that?" Hodges asked, his gut already giving him his answer. He just hoped he was wrong.

"Morgan's vest." Sara bit her cheek. She couldn't break down. She couldn't let herself be weak when all Greg and Morgan needed right now was for their team- _their family_ to be strong. Sara carried it the box out of the break room without another word. She didn't look at anyone or say anything to anyone the whole way to the layout room. She knew Russell was following her to help, and appreciated that he didn't say anything to her. If she tried to speak, she knew she'd start crying. And crying wasn't something that would help her friends' cases.

"You process the box, I'll process the vest." D.B. said once they entered the room. Sara opened her mouth to protest, but Russell held up a finger. "I know you're a strong woman who doesn't need a man to tell her what to do, but just follow my lead on this one thing. We're all having a hard time with this and since you've been running point more than usual, I think you need a break. If you want, I'll let you be the one to call Mr. Grissom later today."

Sara shut her mouth and nodded slightly. She knew he was right, and began working on dusting the box for fingerprints, thinking about how she was going to tell Grissom about all of this. How she let Greg AND Morgan fall through her fingers. Sara had spent a lot of time with Grissom when they had worked together before, and she knew the stats. She knew the chances of getting Greg and Morgan back at all, especially alive. And even then, who knew if they'd even be the same? She shook her head slightly to try and rid herself of these thoughts, though it didn't work. Unfortunately, she came up empty on the fingerprints, and decided to look for any hair or fibers that might have been left behind.

"I think I've found something," Russell said across from her, making her jump. He didn't acknowledge her jumpiness, which made her smile lightly as she waked over to him. D.B. was hunched over the vest, a magnifying glass in one hand, and a pair of tweezers in another. He closed his tweezers around something on the vest and pulled it off, holding it up for both him and Sara to see.

"It's a black hair." Sara stared in surprise. "Neither Greg nor Morgan have black hair-they're both blonde!"

D.B. smiled like a little kid in a candy store, and Sara quickly grabbed a baggie from the counter. She opened it and let Russell drop it inside. Once he did, she sealed it, and turned. "Can I take this to DNA?"

Russell nodded and practically pushed her out of the room. "Run."

That was all Sara needed before she sped off through the hallways, yelling for people to get out of the way. As she passed the break room where people were still sitting in silence, she called out. "Got a lead!" She didn't have time to see if they had heard her or not before she entered the DNA lab.

"Greg, I-" she felt like she had been punched in the gut. There was no one in the lab, and she knew there wasn't going to be. It had always been a habit, and now it was going to have to die hard. She ignored the hurt and practically ran over to the machine to process the hair.

"I heard you had a lead?" Nick asked as he and Julie entered the lab.

Sara nodded while taking the hair out of the bag. She held it up to the light, seeing a small chunk of a bulb on the end, and fist-pumped. "Yeah," she said, cutting the bulb off the end and sticking it into a small vile and stuck that into the machine. "We found a black hair on Morgan's vest. Obviously, it's not Greg or Morgan's, so we're running it now for DNA."

Nick and Julie smiled, hopeful for the outcome. Though they doubted it, they let themselves have hope for a little while. Before the results came back.

"Have you called Grissom yet?" Julie asked, making the other two jump.

"I've decided that if these results don't lead us anywhere, then he might be able to help us. But with this lead, if we can nail the bastard who did this, I'm not going to bother him." Sara said, staring at the machine that was taking a lot longer than she hoped. She didn't have anyone to page her when the results would be ready, so she would just have to sit there and wait.

"Sounds like a good plan," Julie offered weakly, hating that her voice sounded so small. She vowed to work on that, after they found Greg and Morgan. _Alive._

* * *

Greg sat up in a heartbeat, the cold water splashing onto him waking him up with a heart attack. As soon as he could wipe his eyes clean of the ice water, he glanced to his right. Morgan was sitting up, too, only her back was pressed against the wall. She was shivering, and her eyes stayed locked on the person who threw the water on them.

"Wakey wakey, Greggo." Sam said, smirking. "It's time to have some more fun. It's my day off, so we're gonna be having some great quality time together."

Morgan grabbed Greg's right arm, clutching it tightly. She would've wrapped her entire body around his to protect him, but she couldn't move the rest of her to get there. She knew she was just frozen in fear, and she hated it.

"Time to go, Greggo." Sam said, making Greg wince every time he said his nickname. Nick had come up with that, and now, whenever someone would call him that, he was sure he would only see Sam smirking down at him instead of a friendly face.

Sam reached over to unlock Greg's wrist from the handcuffs, but as soon as his hand got close enough to the handcuffs, and Morgan's face, she snapped out of her stupor.

"Ow!" Sam reeled back, clutching his hand. His face went from agony to anger quickly. "You bit me!" He glared daggers at Morgan, who just wiped her teeth with her thumb. She was trying to get all of the skin cells under her fingernails, which would be the first place her team would look in case she wound up dead in the next couple hours.

"Just for that, I'm gonna take you instead." Sam grabbed Morgan by the hair, practically dragging her out of the bed. She tried to ignore the severe pain coming from her scalp, along with Greg's cries for Sam to take him instead. She also tried to ignore the fact that this could very well be the last time she could see Greg.

She was expecting to be dragged to the chair at first, but then Sam changed directions as soon as she was off the bed entirely. He took her to the door of the room, not showing any signs of him planning on letting go anytime soon. Sam opened the door, throwing Morgan into the wall across the hall. She could feel blood coming from her nose, and she quickly wiped it off and ran it along the floorboard of the hallway, hoping Sam didn't see it.

"C'mon," Sam grabbed her by the arm this time, literally dragging her down the long hallway. She tried to look for any windows, to try and find any features that she could try and remember if they got rescued in time, but no such luck. She quickly found herself in the next door down from Greg's room, and was dragged inside.

As soon as Sam let his grip loosen on Morgan's arm, she sprung into action. She pulled her arm away from Sam, who was stunned just long enough for Morgan to run out the door of her new room. She could hear him yelling and chasing after her, and the adrenaline made her run faster down the hallway. Once she reached the end, though, she looked around for a front door. By the time she spotted it, Sam was almost on top of her. She ran to the door to her right, and would've normally laughed when she heard him run right into the wall. She gripped the door handle, pulling open the door. She felt the cool night air brush against her face as she ran out, screaming for help. She ran down the front steps and into freedom, but she almost immediately cried with joy.

The crime lab was only a couple doors down.

"You're gonna regret this, you little bitch," Sam seethed as he clamped a towel around her mouth. Morgan's eyes widened, and she quickly brought her leg up behind her, hitting Sam in the groin. He doubled over in pain, groaning. The rag fell from her mouth just as she was beginning to feel lightheaded.

"Help!" Morgan screamed, quickly whirring around to kick Sam in the stomach, making him fall to the ground. Sam groaned again, but was almost immediately up after, tackling Morgan to the ground. She saw a couple walking across the street and yelled out to them, quickly getting a punch from Sam. Her head hit the ground with a thump, and she saw her surrounding swirl.

Her eyes wanted to close, but she kept them open as long as she could, swinging punches at Sam one after another, her fists sometimes missing, sometimes making solid contact with his jaw as he held the rag against her mouth again. They wrestled on the ground, people rushing out of their houses as Sam picked Morgan up and flung her over his shoulder. She knew she couldn't give up now, but she couldn't move. She managed a weak "Help!" before being dragged into the house once again. Her eyes closed just as she heard the front door slam. The last thing she heard was sirens blaring in the distance.


	10. Chapter 10

"Archie wants us to see him at his lab," Nick said, pulling out his phone. "He says it's urgent."

Sara reluctantly pulled herself away from her standing position that she had been in for the past thirty minutes now, and looked at Nick. Julie had gone to grab some more coffee, and since she hadn't gotten back yet, they figured they'd just fill her in when they passed her in the hallway.

"Okay," was all Sara could muster. She silently followed Nick down the hallway until they reached the break room. Julie was just stepping out, carrying three cups of steaming hot coffee. Nick smiled at her, taking two from her and passing one to Sara.

"Thanks, Jules."

Nick explained Archie's brief text on their way to his lab to Julie, and the walk to the lab seemed to take forever. Once they arrived, though, they all wished it would've taken longer.

Upon the screen on the wall was a picture of Morgan, her shirt split open, a circular burn mark on her chest. Their throats seemed to close, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Thankfully, Archie turned off the computer, and the other three CSIs let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding.

"I've only managed to play half the video, but I was wondering if you all would like to watch it with me. Russell told me he didn't want to see it, and you three...well, you're all that's left. I figured at least one real CSI should see it to at least know what-"

"I'll watch," Sara interrupted, earning a slight nod from the other two.

"Same here," Nick said.

"And here." Julie added.

Archie nodded, a couple clicks on his mouse and the video rewinded to the beginning. He looked over to them.

"This thing is…" he glanced back to the screen briefly. "Fourteen minutes long. If you want to go grab some break room chairs, you can."

Sara just took a seat straight on the floor, while Nick shuffled aside a place on one of the counters for him to sit. Julie just remained standing in place.

"We're good." Sara said, receiving an understanding nod from Archie.

He pressed play, and everyone's eyes widened. They were all close to crying after the first couple minutes, and were silently thankful when Russell burst into the room.

"We might've found Greg and Morgan," was all he said, rushing out of the room, the rest of the team on their feet and following within seconds.

* * *

Greg sat up on the bed, his wrist being an uncomfortable position while he was still handcuffed to the headboard. He had heard someone running through the hallway on the other side of the door, and he could hear Sam's booming voice echo down the hallway. His heart leaped with joy as he heard the front door slam. Maybe Morgan had made it out? Greg hoped so. _At least then she would be safe_ , he thought.

Suddenly, the door to his room slammed open, and Adam ran inside with a duffle bag. Greg watched as Adam stuffed the camera that was still on the tripod in the corner of the room into it, and began to wonder about Morgan.

"What's going on, Adam?" Greg asked, pulling on the handcuff. "Where's Morgan?"

Adam looked at Greg for the first time since he walked in the door. "I-I…" he stammered. "I can't talk to you," he stared at the ground, but still walked over to Greg. Grabbing a keychain from his pocket, he reached over to unlock Greg. "Please don't hurt me, Greg." Adam pleaded as he stretched his entire body over Greg's. Greg had thought about sending a punch to Adam's gut once he was free and try to run, but his eyes were more attracted to the figures in the doorway.

"This, and worse, will happen to you when you run, Gregory."

Sam stood in the doorway, holding Morgan bridal style, her head hanging back over Sam's arms. Greg gasped as he felt his hand drop. He felt Adam push him into a standing position, but he was too shocked to care. He was taking in Morgan's beaten body, which had bruises everywhere. Her hair was ruffled, sticking out at awkward angles, partially covering the black and blue splotches that covered her face. Her right eye was starting to swell, and she had a busted lip, drying blood covering her entire chin. Her nose looked broken, but Greg didn't care about that. He was more worried because it almost looked like she wasn't breathing.

"What did you do?!" Greg screamed, running up to Sam and raising his hand back to punch him. "What did you do to her?!" Greg screamed again when he felt Adam grab both of his arms and push his chest against the wall. He felt his hands being handcuffed behind his back, but he had his eyes trained on Morgan the whole time.

"She's probably concussed, honestly." Sam said, a wicked smirk playing at his lips. It was almost like he enjoyed seeing Greg so worried and angry.

"You son of a bitch!" Greg screamed as Adam led him down the hallway, away from Morgan. "You're killing her!" He felt tears prick his eyes as he struggled against the restraints. "If she has a concussion she'll die if she sleeps!" Greg was finally pushed through a door, and he couldn't see either of the other two anymore.

Panting and in pain, Greg looked around. A familiar cool breeze hit his cheek like a brick. He was being hauled into a backyard, and was led to the side of the house. There were sirens, and they sounded close. If he could stall Adam, and if they were coming for him, maybe he and Morgan could finally be saved.

But Adam and Sam obviously had other plans, as Greg felt a rag being shoved practically all the way inside his mouth. He thanked God that Adam wasn't good at this, because he didn't cover his nose. Greg slowed his movements, coming up with a plan. He pretended to fall limp, and the rag was removed from his mouth.

Adam sighed, and his grip on Greg's arms relaxed. Suddenly, Greg opened his eyes, and pulled himself out of Adam's hands. He didn't look back at Adam; he knew he was on his tail as Greg ran towards the front of the house. He could see the sirens now, and managed to take one step into the light at the front before he was tackled from the back.

"Help!" Greg screamed, seeing some people standing outside their houses. The police cars were turning onto the street now, and Adam was beginning to freak out. "The kidnapper's name is Sam!" Greg yelled, hoping someone would remember to tell the police. "We're CSIs!"

This caught some people's attention, but Greg couldn't see that as he was dragged back to an already running car. Greg yelped as he was chucked into the backseat, the door slamming behind him. He watched Adam run around to the other side of the car just as a cop car pulled over on the opposite side of the street. Thinking fast, Greg maneuvered himself to be able to roll down his window. Thankfully, Sam in the driver's seat was thinking something else.

Adam opened the door to find a gun pointed at his stomach. He barely had time to move before Sam pulled the trigger, sending Adam to the ground. Sam leaned over to shut the door after Adam was pushed out of the way, and he hit the gas. Greg's breath almost caught as he saw Nick jump out of the cop car across the street. He knew this was his chance.

Sam floored the gas pedal, and they were sent flying forwards. Sam abruptly took his foot off the pedal, stopping them right beside Nick, Sara and a cop he didn't recognize.

"Guys!" Greg screamed, immediately catching the three's attention, they seemed to almost smile in joy, but it quickly faded. "Help! His name is Sam-"

Sam brought the gun around the back of his seat, and pulled the trigger quickly. Greg screamed and fell against the door, his head hanging partially outside. He looked down to his thigh, which was now bleeding profusely. He managed to bring his eyes to look out the window. Sam pressed on the pedal again, and Greg watched Nick and Sara running after him as Sam rolled up the window. He could hear gunshots in the background, but all he could do was pray that Morgan wasn't dead, and wasn't in the trunk of the car.

"Stupid kid," Sam cursed from the front seat, but Greg had already passed out.


	11. Chapter 11

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Nick screamed, swinging at the punching bag in his basement. Sara sat on the other side of the room, her head between her knees. Her eyes were closed, and she silently cried, getting her pants wet. Nick was completely oblivious to anyone and anything other than this punching bag, envisioning it as that guy-that son of a bitch that took Greg. "WHY HIM?!"

Sara brought her hands up to her ears. She understood why he was yelling, but his way of dealing with anger was different than hers. She needed it to be quiet, and if she were to be anywhere near Nick, that wouldn't happen. But, she knew she couldn't get up without Nick seeing her face, which was probably all red and puffy from crying.

"WHAT. DID. THEY. DO?!" Nick screamed, punctuating every word with blows to the punching bag. Tears began to stream down his face, and his punches began getting slower and weaker as the tears fell faster. "They don't deserve this," he whispered, leaning his forehead on the punching bag.

Sara sat for a minute. She thought back to the hospital visit only thirty minutes earlier.

 _Running into the hospital, Sara and Nick looked around frantically for a front desk. Nick had seen it first, running forward, Sara only a couple steps behind. "Where's CSI Morgan Brody?"_

 _At first the nurse didn't even look up. But when Nick brought out his badge, which he never used unless it was urgent, the nurse immediately stopped to listen to him. He repeated himself. "Where is CSI Morgan Brody?"_

 _The nurse typed something into her computer quickly, and she wordlessly read the screen. Sara could tell Nick was getting impatient. He was standing on one leg, the other bouncing uncontrollably fast._

" _She's in surgery," the nurse said. "It says here that she had been shot through the abdomen, and had lost a lot of blood. She'll need a transfusion as well, and visitors aren't allowed for at least twelve hours." She looked quickly between Sara and Nick. "If you'd like, I can take your phone numbers and call you when visitors are allowed."_

 _Sara quickly stepped forward, knowing that Nick wasn't in condition. "Here," she said, scribbling her number on a piece of paper the nurse had laid on the counter, handing it back. "Thank you."_

" _Not a problem. Have a nice day."_

 _Nick was fuming as they walked outside, and Sara stopped at a bench by the front doors, urging him to calm down._

" _I'm not going to sit down when Greg is-" Nick's voice faltered. "When Greg could be dead."_

 _Sara sighed, knowing the likelihood of Greg even making it through the night. "At least we have Morgan. Once she can tell us who these men are, it'll be so much easier just to stick them behind bars for life." Her eyes begged him to sit down and to stop pacing._

" _I don't want them behind bars, Sara!" Nick practically exploded. "I want them dead. I want to make them feel everything that both Morgan AND Greg have gone through. I want to do all that and more, leaving them to rot behind some dumpster or in the desert or someplace, where they can die alone and scared." Nick's eyes suddenly changed. His face full of anger fell, replaced by one full of fear and sadness. "I've never wanted to do that to anyone, Sara." Nick hung his head as he took a seat on the bench beside her. "I'm sorry you had to see that."_

" _I understand," was all she could say. She had been thinking every word that he had just said ever since they found Morgan and let Greg slip through their fingers._

 _Suddenly, Sara's phone rung. She looked over to Nick, who looked at her hopefully, but she simply shook her head. She knew he wanted to know if they were calling because they had found Greg. Once she did, he hung his head again._

" _Uh-huh. I'll be sure to tell him." Sara hung up, Nick's head lifting slightly._

" _Brass says they have the accomplice at the police station; he survived. They're interrogating him now, and they said that we aren't allowed in there, since it is personal for us." Sara explained._

" _But it's personal for Brass, too, Sara! He knew Morgan and Greg almost as well as we did-"_

" _Do."_

 _Nick stopped. "What?"_

 _Sara took a deep breath. "Say 'He KNOWS Morgan and Greg almost as well as we DO. Don't talk about them as if they're both . . . gone." Sara choked on the last word, feeling something stuck in her throat. It was hard for her to breathe, and she needed to go home and sleep before she starting crying in public._

" _I'm sorry." Nick stated, before reaching in his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. "C'mon," he said softly. "I'm driving. You can stay at my place. You're in no shape to drive or even be by yourself."_

 _Sara let Nick take her by the hand to urge her to stand, then allowed him to lead her to his car with his hand on her back. She knew it was a friendly gesture, but if it had been at any other time, she wouldn't have._

 _They climbed in, and off they went to Nick's house._

"SARA!" Nick snapped his fingers in front of Sara's face, making her jump. She hadn't realized how far into outer space her mind had gotten, and looked down.

"Are you alright?" Nick asked gently, cocking his head at her.

She sat still for a moment, then lightly shook her head no. He sat down on the ground beside her, drawing her into a hug. Normally, she would've punched him in the gut (semi-lightly) and told him she wasn't into that lovey-dovey touchy-feely kind of stuff, but right now she knew he needed it. And it drove her crazy when she acknowledged that she needed it too.

* * *

"Greggo."

Greg groggily yawned, beginning to sit up. He felt something hot hit his neck, and a searing pain went through his stomach, both making him press back hard against whatever cold metal was behind him. He opened his eyes to bright lights, making him squint, but he immediately recognized the man in the room with him.

"Hey, there!" Sam exclaimed loudly, making Greg jump. "I've brought you a mirror just so you can see what I've done to you." Sam grinned evilly, and even though Greg had only been awake a couple minutes, he was wide awake. Ignoring Greg's stares, Sam walked past the bright lights to the back of the large room Greg was in. He tried looking around for something to look at, but he quickly realized he was stuck. His hands and feet were handcuffed to hooks on the metal wall behind him, and a red ring in metal was around his neck. He gulped, feeling the hairs on his chin being singed. He was about to try and yank himself in one direction, when Sam came back.

"Here you go, Greggo!" Sam brought a mirror into Greg's sight, placing it right in front of him. Greg gulped. Not only was there a red hot ring around his neck, but there were multiple knives taped to the wall around him so that, if he tried to escape, they would stab him. And some of them looked _really_ sharp.

Greg couldn't breathe. He was stuck, and he couldn't move without feeling the prick of a blade cutting into his sides or legs. Then, his stomach caught his eye. Or rather, the bloody patch on his shirt right over top of it. He could see a hole through the shirt, and he desperately wanted to reach down to fix himself up. But, instead, he simply looked to his right, away from Sam.

And into the camera hanging from the ceiling.

He had to hold back tears of fear, since he was almost positive that his friends were going to see this. He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that the camera wasn't on, which would usually mean Sam wasn't intending to do anything to hurt him.

"Greggo," Sam said. "Look at me."

Greg shook his head lightly. He had just noticed the blinking light on the camera, which meant it was recording. Greg knew what that meant.

"Look at me!" Sam roared, slamming his fist against the wall right beside Greg's head. He couldn't get too close, though, since the knives could cut him, too. Greg winced nonetheless from the loud noise, and brought his eyes up to meet Sam's.

"Now, since your little girlfriend had almost got us caught, you can thank her for this." Sam lifted Greg's shirt enough for the camera to see the bullet wound, then proceeded to stick his finger inside of it.

Greg had never felt anything like it. A searing, white-hot pain shot through his entire body, and the only thing louder than Sam's laugh was his screams. He didn't bother stopping the tears from falling. It hurt worse than actually _getting_ shot, and Greg almost let his head roll to one side when he felt a prick against his cheek.

"Fuck . . . you . . ." Greg whispered, panting as Sam took out his finger. Sam walked out of Greg's line of sight-past the lights, and Greg could hear water running. Greg hoped he was done, that this was enough for tonight. But he could hear something that sounded like metal on metal, and assumed that whatever it was, it was about to be used on him.

Sam ignored Greg's comment as he walked back, dragging something behind him.

"If you're good," Sam said. "I'll let you stay the night strapped to this," he pointed to the thin cot he had dragged behind him. "But if you're bad, you stay right where you are for another twenty-four hours."

Greg nodded lightly in understanding.

Sam reached up to run a hand through Greg's hair, making him shudder. How he hated anyone that did that. Except for Morgan, of course.

Morgan. He wondered if she was alright. Maybe she was dead? Maybe-

"I saw how your little girlfriend did this," Sam said softly, leaning into Greg's face. "I'm going to either kill you, or scar you so badly that if I don't get the chance, you'll want to finish the job yourself."

Greg gulped, his eyes staring fearfully into Sam's. He was just praying that Morgan was alright.

"I've decided I'm going to move you to the bed now, Greg." Sam said, stepping back. "I think it'll be easier to torment you there."

Hoping that this bed wouldn't be where Sam decided to-

"Understood?" Sam asked, his face showing impatience.

Greg quickly nodded the bad thoughts away.

"Good."

As Sam unlocked the handcuffs around Greg's wrists and ankles, Greg slowly fell to the floor. Sam grabbed the camera himself, and centered it on Greg.

"On the bed, Greg. Give me any trouble, and that won't be the only gunshot wound you'll have tonight."

Greg tried to pull himself up, but with the change in gravity on his body, blood started to stream from his wound again. He reached down to his stomach with a numb arm, trying to apply pressure. He knew that if he didn't get the bleeding under control, he was a dead man.

"Shit," he heard Sam say. Looking down, Greg realized how much blood he was losing. "Um…." Sam quickly sat the camera down, the lens still facing Greg. He stared into it, feeling himself lose consciousness. He could hear Sam's frantic footsteps, but they sounded distant. All he could focus on was the camera. That sometime, somewhere, his friends would be watching this. Watching him die.

"I love you guys." he whispered just loud enough he believed the team would be able to hear. His entire body felt rigid and cold, but he didn't shiver. He tried to put more pressure on the wound, but his arms and legs fell slack. He couldn't move anything but his eyelids, which closed a couple seconds after.


End file.
